


Karking Force Mishaps

by Merfilly



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Gen, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 03:24:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12740040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: An investigation in one part of time ends in a headache for one Mando'ad.





	Karking Force Mishaps

**Author's Note:**

> I was asked to write a de-aging/time travel fic that uses several bits presented below. I couldn't quite win it over to the exact prompts I was given, but here is the take I did get. Thank you, Lorna, for inspiring it.

Cody was on point, though Obi-Wan was not far from his side. Boil and Waxer were flanking rear guard, with Wooley and Trapper in the middle. They very carefully followed the trail of the mysterious shadowy figure, intent on getting answers for the disappearance of an entire squad of their men. The one call they had received had said a figure had been seen in the distance, and then it had been spotted on the outskirts of camp impossibly fast after that.

Obi-Wan had no idea what it was, but this planet had legends of a life-stealer, and he thought it might possibly be a relic of the ancient Sith-Jedi wars.

"Sir!" Cody snapped out even as Obi-Wan was turning, feeling the Force rising with a dark, hungry edge to it in a way that didn't match anything his senses understood. All he could do was fling his protection out, trying to shield his men from the unknown danger.

* * *

Jaster Mereel had been on edge from the instant the air crackled and popped with no storm warning in sight. Carrying both blaster and rifle, he made his son remain behind and took one of his lieutenants instead. Jango's face settled in an unrepentant scowl, but he wasn't risking the boy to something so unusual. 

It was the first planet they'd dropped on since the fight that had gotten him his son, and his nerves were still a little on edge. Even so, when he cleared a small copse of trees to see not one, but six young kids sprawled on the ground, he eased off his rifle stance. 

White, unfamiliar armor in gold-yellow markings was awkwardly around five of the kids' bodies, while the last…

… those shades of brown and tan and beige were well-known and hated by all true Mando'ade. He started to bring the rifle back up, wary of Jedi robes anywhere near his people, but the ginger-haired boy in their midst was so young, an innocent to Jaster's eyes.

In the moment of hesitation, the other boys seemed to realize there was a threat, and started trying to move, trying to grab at weapons that lay just outside their grasp.

"Kriff, sir; we're all tiny!" one of the boys said in dismay.

"I did the best I could… Boil?" the ginger replied, uncertain of the name.

"Sir, yes sir, I know sir, but… I HATED being small!"

"I'm TRAPPED!"

"Finally got caught by your name, vod?"

"Trapper, calm down. Wooley, do not pick on Trapper," the ginger said with a sigh, before he calmly, and with as much grace as a boy of maybe eight, on the weedy side of that, could muster, stood in the disaster of robes, tunics, leggings and belts. He was looking dead at Jaster when he got to his feet, and his face was set with bravery. "I must apologize, but we've had a bit of an incident."

"That's my general. Understating the karked up mess as usual," the boy that seemed eldest, closest to the Jedi, said in a low voice, and only Jaster's helmet allowed him to pick it up.

"I don't think there's enough ne'tra gal in the galaxy for the idea of a bunch of Mando'ade calling a Jedi a general, let alone all of you being younger than my son, and them calling you that so seriously," Jaster decided.

"I do believe you might be quite right, and only ask for a chance to explain, so I may protect my men, ehh, boys, emm… troops?" the ginger said, looking at them as they shoved off too-large helmets and tried to wriggle out of the armor only to find the clasps resisting child-level strength.

Jaster looked around, at each revealed face, and saw younger versions of his own son, looking to be five or six years old, with only two of them at the exact same spot in that range by his guess. "Haar'chak," he growled under his breath, then slung his rifle, moving down to help the boys.

* * *

After calling for transport, getting all the armor off, removing half their body-glove beneath it, and eventually glaring at the Jedi to take off all but one tunic, no matter HOW NEATLY he had rolled everything up, Jaster was finally able to corral the boys in a room, park a guard on them, and take the Jedi aside to talk.

Somehow there was a boy with the Jedi, despite Jaster having been positive he'd counted five before shutting the door.

"Where my jetii goes, I go," the boy said with a defiant glare. He then softened the face in front of Jaster snapping at him. "Lifedebt."

Jaster was going to need so much alcohol to drown this day out of his memory.

"Names?" he asked, once the three of them were in a different room.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi. And Commander Cody." Obi-Wan kept his voice polite and level, though the high pitch of it kept making Cody want to crack up. "May we know who you are? I can surmise you are not Death Watch, as I have no doubt they would not have given me the benefit of the doubt, my size notwithstanding."

Jaster frowned, but had to concede that, especially after the fiasco on Concord Dawn. The Death Watch faction had no honor when it came to children and noncombatants. "Jaster Mereel."

Both sets of eyes came to rest on his face with hard appraisal in the darker pair, and shrewd appraisal in the other.

"Mand'alor," Cody began, imbuing respect in his voice. "May I ask the year?"

"Nine forty-two, Ruusan calendar," Jaster said, slightly uncomfortable being hailed by the title by this odd little version of his son.

"Kriffing hells," Obi-Wan said, too startled to not give vent to his surprise. "I'm not even born yet, and all of you men…."

"Won't exist for another two and half decades plus some, sir," Cody said, astounded.

Never mind the ne'tra gal at this point. Jaster needed the hard stuff.

* * *

Somehow, he had agreed to keep the kids with them.

Even the Jedi.

_"Due to a mission in Mandalorian space that lasted about a year, I studied this period of history extensively. My duty to my men demands that I attempt to help you, as the better interest for the warrior culture of Mandalore, versus the Death Watch."_

Jaster had not fully trusted that, as he was certain only the pacifists would ever have brought a Jedi to their space willingly, but… Jango had attached to the other boys. None of those boys were big enough to be effective for most warrior tasks, but that didn't keep them from trying. And they made a hell of a support crew. They knew their munitions, and their blasters, and … generally were amazing little warriors in all but size for handling their gear!

He had no idea how any of this was going to spin out, but if Jango wanted brothers, who was he to protest?

**Author's Note:**

> If you think the deux ex machina at the beginning for how it happens sounds familiar, you are right. I was inspired by Amy and Rory's fates to do something similar to a Weeping Angel.
> 
> I have no idea if this will ever have a continuation. If any of you have ideas, PLEASE WRITE/DRAW THEM and link back to this.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Only or'dinii* want to live in interesting times](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13517358) by [LornaD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LornaD/pseuds/LornaD)
  * [May you live in interesting times](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13504653) by [LornaD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LornaD/pseuds/LornaD)




End file.
